Conquer
by unsuspectingTies
Summary: BECHLOE BECHLOE BECHLOE. Beca Mitchell is having to go through a life-changing surgery today-but she's been preparing for that. But how could a red-headed nurse be the actual cure? That doesn't make sense.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hey guys! So, this will be another multi-chapter. This is one that means a lot to me personally, and is the reason I was not around for a bit here. :) I hope you all will give this a read, for I really want to get it out. Let me know what you think, and as always, thank you for the support. xx._

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

The taste of metal filled her mouth. Why metal? There shouldn't necessarily be a taste—what she threw up was clear. Tasteless. Beca got a bit of a second wind and raised her body up again, in the back of the car. She looked at the small glowing digital numbers on her father's dash. 6:08am. She then focused on her breath, which she could see in front of her.

"You okay back there? What happened?"

"Nothing Dad. Sorry, just got a little sick."

"Shoot, did you—"

"I didn't have anything, but the yellow cooler that's back here—"

"—all go in there?"

"I may have missed it at first…but for the most part, yeah. Sorry."

"It's okay Bec. We'll clean it up, don't worry about it."

How could she be expected to worry about that? How would she even have the time to clean this up? It was still dark outside, and very cold. The heater had not caught up to them yet, simply because they left the Patient Family House like…5 minutes ago?

It was clear, and tasteless. Liquid almost. That made sense. There was to be 'no eating after midnight' before the surgery. But why metal? Was it blood? Maybe there was some blood that came up. Beca looked down at the small yellow cooler, looked inside of it. No, it was still clear—at least what she could make out in the cold darkness.

"You needed to turn left, there."

"Shoot!"

Of all things, Beca's dad never seemed to curse around her. He was a dick for leaving her behind, all those years ago, but for some reason, he wasn't _truly_ a dick. Maybe she had been a little too hard on him. He had been here for this, after all. Even the "step-monster" Sheila was there, sitting shotgun. It never occurred to Beca why she didn't get shotgun this morning. No one offered. Why was such a childish thought surfacing right this second? _Oh well._ She couldn't be mad at her step-mom either, for she was here too, right? As distant as the two ladies were from each other, she came to help. Her dad couldn't do this by himself. Beca knew that.

Beca pulled out her cellphone. Her last contact with 'the others'—the others referring to her friends who had to work today. Her friends that knew what was happening today, but couldn't physically be there. The hospital was about 2 hours away, anyway. But it was a good one. Considered the best. She smiled weakly, knowing that some weren't even waking up yet for work. Damn them! She wanted to send something out. Nothing morbid, or dramatic. She didn't want to be "that person."

She had been relatively private about the entire endeavor. When she was diagnosed 2 years ago, until now, she barely said anything. She was used to the headaches, so she knew how to deal with the pain when she laughed too hard. She became quieter, less active, and distant. She drew her limits after the official news from the doctor. She didn't want to be "that person" advertising their struggle, their pain, and their fear. She couldn't. Perhaps it would make it more real? She also just believed people had it worse. So no big.

Four little hearts. Four little hearts of a different color. Red, yellow, purple, then green. She didn't know why she didn't snag the little blue one too. She sent four little hearts to those few friends who were out there for her. That's all she had time to send. They were at the hospital in less than 15 minutes, despite her dad getting a little turned around.

That was the benefit of the Patient Family House. Very close to the hospital. It was like a hotel, but a hotel specific to the hospital. A hotel specifically for families who were having their loved ones stay in the hospital for a bit of time. It was a creepy son of a bitch, Beca will admit that. When they checked-in yesterday, Martha Stewart herself appeared and gave them a tour of the house, and a gift bag saying 'hey, feel better, here's some candy.'

She didn't sleep, even though she picked up a quart of her favorite ice cream, and a DJ Daily magazine, she couldn't turn her mind off. Her dad and her step-mom stayed on their side of the room and kept quiet. They were worried that anything they would say would set Beca off. So they chatted quietly to each other, as Beca put on her new wireless headphones. She tried. She really did. Then midnight hit. No more ice cream. No more anything.

As a result of not sleeping, she was the first to get out of bed. Technically she could have stayed in bed until roughly 5:45am, but she was restless. She was moving around quietly at 4:30am. She was supposed to shower before checking in to the surgical wing. She had specific instructions to wash only with DIAL Gold soap. Even her hair. Specifically, the incision site. So she took that bar of soap and rubbed it hard against the back of her head.

"I love you, you'll do great" was the first text she received. Then they slowly came rolling in. Unsure if she was waking up her friends, she smiled, nevertheless.

"See you after!"

"Your brain will kick ass!"

"Prayers and healing thoughts."

"Praying God guides your surgeon's hands this morning."

She had support. She did. She was grateful. But they weren't the ones about to leap, here. _Quit being dramatic, Mitchell_ , she reminded herself. As she clicked off her phone, she looked out the window. The glowing lights were already in sight.

"Surgical Services."

They were pulling up to one of the closest parking spots at the top of the hospital deck. Beca grabbed her phone one last time to check for a message from someone specific, but she did not have anything new. "She's not awake yet." Beca murmured.

"What Bec?"

"—Nothing, sorry."

Beca knew she had to put her things away now. She turned off her phone and looked at it as they parked the car. She shifted uneasily around the contents in the yellow bag, and opened her door to get out. It was so fucking cold this morning. Beca stood there, crossing her arms as her dad and step-mom moved around quickly, picking up bags, checking if they had the paperwork, IDs, everything. Beca didn't move. She looked up at the stars still in the sky as the two of them took care of matters for her.

She got lost in a trail of twinkling lights—her mind surprisingly blank. She was almost stoic. Nothing seemed to make any sense.

"Okay. That's everything."

Beca snapped back down, and nodded to her dad, who put his arm around her. They walked up to the building, and entered through the glass doors. Beca didn't have her bag, not yet. She would hopefully get that later, in her room afterward. It was just her, and her PJs. She walked in feeling strange, seeing adults walking around with their coffees, smiling, talking about what their shift might hold today.

"See Bec? Just a regular day. This is their job." Her dad chimed in, seeing that his daughter was looking around a little anxious-like.

They moved through the main lobby and down the hall. They got quite familiar with where to go yesterday in pre op. Soon they all three walked into a large waiting area. Families were slowly forming in different groups of chairs. Beca was starting to feel nauseous again. Maybe she developed the stomach bug! Maybe she had a virus and they couldn't operate today! Maybe this won't happen today!

"—Where should we sit?" Her step-mom asked, somehow directed at Beca.

"I don't know, that's up to you guys." Beca shot back.

Admittedly she felt a little guilty for snapping, but it was true. She wouldn't be sitting there. Waiting.

Things moved quickly at this point. She went to the front desk, checked in, and got her bracelet on her wrist. She was then given a pager that would blink when they were ready for her. A nurse would be instructed to collect her pager at the "big doors." From that point, she would be led back to get changed into her gown, and put in her bed. She would then wait for her IV to be started, and then 'go time' at 8:30am.

"Why did we have to check in at 6:30?" Beca asked quietly.

"Wednesdays the surgeons have a conference first thing in the morning. But don't worry, baby, you're the first scheduled."

Beca liked how the older woman at the desk already gave her a pet name. Was that specifically designed to make her feel less nervous?

"How long should we be waiting?" Her dad asked.

"A nurse will find you and keep you updated, sugar."

 _Why did he get a pet name too?_

"Is there anything we need to know before we send your paperwork back?"

"—I'm feeling nauseous."

"Have you thrown up today?"

"Yes, on the way here actually."

"Did you eat anything after midnight?"

"No. No, but I had some ice cream close to that time, if that helps…"

"No baby, that's fine. Do you think it's just nerves?"

"M-maybe. I guess. I don't know."

"I think so. You should be fine; they will check your vitals back there."

 _Fuck_.

The three nodded and slowly went and sat down. Beca was cold again. She was wearing her Katy Perry zip-up hoodie…one that she bought last summer at the PRISM Concert. She didn't know why she loved Katy Perry so much—but the trip was incredibly fun. Her first time to Nashville, to really see where music was. She put up the hood to her sweatshirt. She looked in front of her and saw several people in wheelchairs, and casts. She wasn't. In fact she was walking around just fine. How strange.

Another strange thing was the blinking red orb in her lap.

"That's us." Her dad said.

"Right." Beca murmured.

"That was fast." Sheila said.

Beca picked up her pager and stood up. She removed her hood and looked at them both. She didn't cry. They didn't cry. They hugged awkwardly. They stayed, and she went forward. Nothing more than that. Nothing dramatic. They expected this part.

Beca held out her pager as she moved toward the front desk again to show them that she was being called.

"Thank you baby and best wishes." The woman motioned to her right where "the big doors" were. Like she was told, there stood a single nurse in pale green scrubs.

Beca was surprised at how the nurse's red hair popped in contrast to the faded green.


	2. Chapter 2

_Eeeeek. It's been a hot minute, huh? Well hey, I said I was back. (Not that you're waiting for this by any means). But I am happy to be continuing. Again, this one means a lot to me. Please let me know what you think. X_

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

* * *

This red hair was actually popping off of the scrubs this woman was wearing. It was fiery. It was wavy. It was seemingly falling perfect along the woman's shoulders. While this was something Beca seemed incredibly fixated on, _next_ was the blast of a smile. The nurse was practically beaming, shining the damn sun from her face. Her wide smile put Beca off a bit. It seemed Stepford-ish, or even, manic. Beca realized that she was being cynical. However, how could someone who works with people getting their skull cut out and brain cut into _be_ so happy? How could this woman be so seemingly THRILLED to see a morbid patient approaching? Shouldn't she have shown remorse? Concern? Apathy—hell, SYMPATHY? Why was Beca getting so worked up—she enjoyed that the desk worker gave her a pet name. Was it because this nurse was practically the same age as Beca? Why would this nurse—

"Hi! I'm Nurse Beale!"

 _Woah._ Okay. Listening!

"Good morning, err…can I take a look at that?"

Beca stood in silence, taken aback.

"Pretty please? You know, my friends just call me Chloe. What's your name?"

"Uhh…"

Suddenly the spunky nurse startled Beca even further by grabbing her right hand. Beca's posture moved back quickly, but she allowed the woman, or, Chloe—Nurse Beale—to raise her hand up to her face. It was strange. Chloe brought Beca's hand so close to her face it seemed as if this girl was going to place a kiss on top!

 _What? Did she see this on the Titanic and always want to do it?_

Beca's eyes bugged out and she took a sharp breath in. Chloe didn't seem phased at all. Chloe shot a look at Beca, and winked. _Seriously what is this chick doing?!_

Chloe looked back down at Beca's tight little fist (now), and let out a smile laugh. She brought her other hand up in order to push Beca's black sleeve up a bit, revealing the bracelet that was placed on her just a moment ago. Chloe began to read the contents on her bracelet, making self-validating noises.

"Aw, that's a cute name Beca. Glad to see you this morning!" Chloe looked back up at her and winked again. "You know I actually had this boy in my class, named Mitchell, how crazy. He would literally, never leave me alone. One day he ate my paste off of my glitter picture—I didn't think that was a real thing. But he totally did it! My mom thinks he liked me. But if you like someone…well I guess you DO do a lot of silly stuff, huh. I wonder what he's doing now. I wonder if that paste was even any good. I don't know, I've never tried it before."

 _Nope…not even on drugs yet._

Chloe somewhat giggled to herself and stared at Beca, expectantly.

"I mean you lose touch with people after so long. I wonder if he's still a paste-eater. Maybe I'll have to take care of him here one day."

Beca stared at her. Chloe shrugged. Chloe was still however, holding on to Beca's hand.

"Glitter poop." Beca mumbled.

 _OH what the fuck was that?_

"Excuse me?" Chloe said, not in a negative way, but rather curious—as if she truly didn't hear what Beca said.

 _This could go one of two ways. Shit fuck._

"G-glitter. Glitter poop. Like. Glittery poop."

 _Nailed it, Bec._

"I bet that would at least be fun…you know if you had to deal with him here at the hospital. That would be interesting, you know."

Silence.

Beca looked down at the floor as if she needed to check…what…the floor…was doing?

Suddenly Beca felt her hand being squeezed as Chloe began to laugh hard. Chloe was shaking her head laughing, still holding on to the smaller girl. Chloe's laughing allowed Beca to relax a little and she even laughed a bit herself.

"Yep, that would definitely be a conversation piece after my shift. Wow!" Chloe said, laughter easing a bit. She let Beca's hand go gently and looked back at her clip board—smiling.

Beca took her hand back and crossed her arms slowly. She wanted to die, but other than that, she was cool again. She meant to talk about poop. She totally, totally did. She began to guess that this Nurse Chloe Beale was somewhat of a master at getting patients to think about other things. Although she wasn't sure that poop was the intent. That was all Beca, in all her glory. Regardless, Beca decided to try and humor this perky girl and not shut down. Well—she would try her best. Dread was beginning to creep in again.

"Okay Beca, we are going to go through these doors here, and turn to the left. Just follow me, okay?"

"Okay."

Chloe turned around promptly and began leading the way. Beca looked back at her parents and smiled weakly, giving them a subtle head nod as they waved at her. She turned around and Chloe was gone.

 _Homegirl moves fast—shit!_

Beca awkwardly stumbled forward and moved through the doorway, looking both ways.

 _Turn left, dingbat._

Beca moved left into the hallway and saw Chloe floating on up ahead. Beca didn't want to run as she could see it was a busy place, but she didn't want to lose this nurse either. She developed a walk that can only be described as…well…maybe an ostrich (not a tall one?) that had some of the tourist's beer? Yeah. That does it.

When Beca was finally behind Chloe—she had to hit the brakes as Chloe stopped abruptly.

"We are going to go through this curtain here, into the waiting area." Chloe smiled.

"B-but. We just…we just left from the waiting…area…right?" A breathless Beca said, trying not to kneel.

"No silly, _your_ waiting area. For patients!" Chloe beamed.

"Oh…right. Okay. Where?"

"Just through these curtains, come on. I'm taking you to bed."

"Y-you're what?!"

"I'm taking you to your bed, where we will get you situated for your surgeon. What did you think I said?" Chloe blushed and laughed quietly.

Beca was now the red head. (See what I did there?)

"Right! Right, sorry. Just a little out of it this morning. You know, lots going on."

"It'll be okay, come on." Chloe smiled. She opened the curtain and moved into the parallel hallway.

From this point, Beca saw a long row of beds, some separated by curtains, some wide open. There were women and men of all ages and ethnicities. They were all laying down, in gowns and thick green socks. The areas closed by curtains—she could see the shuffling of feet. She assumed they were changing into their "gear." Beca was in a daze. She couldn't help but wonder what each person was there for, and why. This wasn't the emergency room, so they all must have known about their future procedures. Were they nervous? Were they concerned something would go wrong? Is there anything she could do for them? Was there anything that they could do for her? Beca's nausea came back, but she held it at bay.

"Right here, my dear. This is our fort." Chloe said, patting the small twin-sized bed on wheels—covered in that same faded green color as her scrubs. Beca looked at her spot. She was beside an elderly black woman, and a young white boy with his mom sitting bedside. This was it.

"Strip."

"WHAT?" Beca whipped around to Chloe.

Chloe laughed again, and began to close the curtains around their "fort."

"Take off your clothes."

"W-what? What am I putting on?"

"Here." Chloe pulled out a flat green _sheet_ and a ball of dark green socks. She placed them at the end of the bed, while closing the last bit of the three-wall curtain fort. Beca looked down at her new wardrobe and looked back at Chloe.

Chloe was standing inside of the curtain—seemingly unaware. She wasn't picking up on this hint. Or blatant obviousness.

"Well hurry up, Mitchell, you're on a schedule." Chloe winked.

"Oh. Okay. So you're going to stay?"

"Show me what you got!" Chloe smiled.

"Y-yeah are you really allowed…to…"

"You're in a hospital, Becs."

 _Becs?!_

"But I totally understand. No worries! Just shout for me when you're done, okay? OH! You can put your belongings in this bag here. We will take it out to whoever is waiting for you today!" Chloe pulled out a large zip-lock bag with the hospital's logo on it.

"Okay, thanks…" Beca said quietly.

Chloe stepped outside and closed the curtain behind her. Beca could see her bright neon running shoes underneath, standing close by.

This was the first moment that Beca was, somewhat, alone. She took in a slow and steady breath. As she did this, she could feel the sting of tears beginning to develop. Her nose had that annoying burn.

"Okay, Mitchell. Just change. It's all good, man. That's all you have to do right now." She whispered to herself.

As she awkwardly changed into the gown within the small space she was given, her mind wandered to her "neighbors" and wondered what their stories were. Maybe small things. Maybe big things. Did they have to have neurosurgery too? Could they make friends and compare? Beca shut her eyes tight.

She was draped in her wrinkled gown and had her big socks on. She rolled up her clothes at the foot of the bed, taking out her cell one last time. She looked at the screen that merely read the time and date.

No messages.

She sighed and turned it off promptly. She put her phone in the middle of the bundle.

"Nurse Beale?" She said aimlessly yet right in Chloe's direction. Suddenly she was very aware that her gown was wide open in the back. BUT SHE ALREADY CALLED FOR NURSE BEALE!

Beca began to scramble at the ties behind her, turning in circles. She dropped the ties, and then snagged more than one accidently. It was a mess.

"Don't worry; I've got your back, Beca." Chloe said warmly. She was straight-faced this time. Seemingly calm, and focused. Beca put her hands up to her face and buried it.

"Let's see here. Okay." Chloe said behind her, calmly.

Before Beca even processed that this Beale girl was able to see her ass, the gown was tied on. It was snug. She no longer felt a draft back there. She then felt the small, comforting pat on her shoulders.

"All done…" the nurse whispered. Though Beca wished she was talking about her surgery instead. Beca felt goosebumps nonetheless.

Things moved a little quicker now. Aside from awkward conversation and pauses, the two began to fall into the prep procedure. Chloe asked her to lie down, and Beca did. From there, Chloe began turning on machines, pulling out carts and items on trays. It almost seemed like Beca was in the operating room! Beca was lying flat on her back, agreeing to things like a zombie. Nurses and doctors were passing by in front of her bed, moving towards the patients they possibly needed to attend to.

Beca closed her eyes, and then turned her head. She opened her eyes to locate a clock, but couldn't seem to see one.

"Happen to have the time?" Beca asked quietly.

"Not much longer, Beca. They should be relieving the surgeons soon. This is a teaching hospital so it is kind of a thing. But they will be by shortly to introduce themselves and all that. You okay?" Chloe asked.

"Never been better." Beca frowned.

"Well. Before they get here then, I need to tell you something."

Beca furrowed her eyebrows, and turned her head slowly in the direction of Nurse Beale.

"I have a secret." Chloe smirked.


End file.
